


Sitting in your fainting chair, drinking pink rabbits

by DubiousSparrow



Series: River Town [9]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam Parrish Loves Ronan Lynch, Alternate Universe, Caretaking, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Ronan Lynch Loves Adam Parrish, Shameless Overuse of the Word Baby, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26804188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DubiousSparrow/pseuds/DubiousSparrow
Summary: Adam is not sick. He is not, he is not, he is not.Except he is.And Ronan is damned well going to take care of him.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Series: River Town [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775125
Comments: 19
Kudos: 148





	Sitting in your fainting chair, drinking pink rabbits

**Author's Note:**

> After a brief reference in [The Proposal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26441581) to Ronan and Adam having the flu, [Wisteria_Leigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wisteria_Leigh/pseuds/Wisteria_Leigh) suggested a sickfic, and I thought that sounded like a brilliant idea! We’re backtracking a bit here -- this takes place before any proposal shenanigans. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Title from "Pink Rabbits" by The National.

_I am not sick._

_I am not sick._

_I am not sick._

Adam repeated the refrain in his head like a mantra. A prayer. _A fucking demand to the universe._

He sat on the train, resting his head against the cool window, worrying his finger over the casing. He watched a flock of geese alight from the river and wing their way north.

He couldn’t be sick. It wasn’t a tenable option right now. The Lawson case was almost to trial, and while he was part of a team seeing to it, he needed to be present and accounted for. His bosses were watching. His colleagues were counting on him. He was Adam _fucking_ Parrish, and he was going to win this goddamned case.

The fact that he had barely made it through Grand Central that evening, having to stop and brace himself against a column so he wouldn’t fall down, was immaterial. 

He was fine. He’d drink some water. He’d take some vitamin C. He’d eat some fucking chicken soup, and sleep for 6 hours (well, maybe five, but that was still two more hours than usual) and he would be good as new in the morning.

He was fine.

**

Ronan opened the door to the apartment and slipped in silently. It was 2am and he’d just finished closing up the bar with Blue. It had been a quiet night with fewer patrons than usual – Ronan had heard there was a flu going around town. He worried about Malory who had been coughing the day before.

As he passed through the living room he saw a pile of blankets on the couch. Odd. 

The pile moved.

And moaned lightly.

“Adam?”

Adam’s head emerged from the heap of flannel, “Ro…?” he croaked.

Ronan quickly crossed the room and knelt in front of the couch, “Hey babe,” he said softly, “You don’t sound so good.”

“I’m fine,” Adam rasped out before erupting in a coughing fit. He was shivering beneath the layers of blankets. Ronan noticed that he was also wearing one of Ronan’s hoodies, the one he always stole.

Ronan held his hand to Adam’s forehead, “You’ve got a fever. You need to hydrate – I’m gonna make you some tea, OK?” 

Ronan moved to stand up, but Adam’s hand emerged from the blankets to grab at his arm, “Wait, don’t go yet. Just stay with me for a little bit, OK?”

Ronan sat back down on the floor, and kissed the top of Adam’s head, “Yeah, sweetheart, it’s OK. I’m here.”

Adam sighed and closed his eyes. Ronan took a closer look at his boyfriend – his normally tan skin was pale, but his cheeks were flushed with fever, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Ronan brushed the hair back from his sweaty forehead.

“Did this just hit you today?”

Adam cracked one eye open and looked guiltily up at Ronan, “I’ve been feeling kind of shitty for a couple days… tired, achy. I figured it was lack of sleep. But today I just sort of crashed.”

Ronan continued to stroke Adam’s head, and Adam closed his eyes again, leaning into the touch.

“You should have told me, babe,” Ronan sighed. “You’ve been driving yourself too hard.”

Adam hummed in acknowledgment, if not agreement, “The work has to get done. Don’t really have a choice. I can rest when we win.”

Ronan ran his thumb over Adam’s cheek soothingly, “Looks like the choice has been made for you. I’m calling Marshall in the morning and telling him he has to cancel your meetings tomorrow.”

Adam moved to sit up and Ronan gently pushed his shoulder back against the pillow, “You’re not calling my assistant. I’m going to work tomorrow. I’ll be fine if I get a few hours of sleep.”

“You will _not_ be fine tomorrow, Parrish. You look like shit. This is the flu that everybody has. And if you push it tomorrow, you’re gonna stay sick longer, so suck it up and let me fucking take care of you.”

“Ronan…”

“You can’t _argue_ your way back to health. I love you. Now just fucking _surrender to my caregiving_ _already_.”

Adam sighed. He didn’t have the energy to argue.

“I surrender.”

**

Adam hated being sick. He hated feeling weak. He hated not being able to do things for himself. And as much as he appreciated Ronan taking care of him, he hated his gorgeous, strong boyfriend seeing him reduced to a sweaty, phlegmy mess, barely able to lift his head.

The fact that Ronan was so _good_ at taking care of him made him feel even worse. He hated that he wouldn’t be able to return the favor if Ronan got sick (not that he would, the annoyingly healthy asshole). Adam knew himself, and he knew he wasn’t a caretaker. It had been pointed out to him in past relationships. He wasn’t good at anticipating what other people needed. He was used to taking care of himself because there was no other option, and it was something of a shock when others expected him to take care of _them_. 

To be fair, before Ronan he had been even worse about _accepting_ care. There was something about Ronan, though, that made him feel _slightly_ better about it. It might have been the _way_ that Ronan took care of him – he didn’t ask permission to do things, and he made it very clear he didn’t expect gratitude. In Ronan’s mind, taking care of Adam was the obvious thing to do. He decided what Adam needed and he gave it to him, freely and without fanfare.

That first night Ronan had unearthed Adam from his blanket fortress, and carried him bridal-style into the bedroom. Adam hadn’t had the energy to resist. And a part of him had _swooned_ (internally) at being carried in Ronan’s strong arms and dropped somewhat gracelessly on their bed. Ronan had put an extra pair of socks on Adam’s shivering feet, wrapped Adam up in the Lynch family quilt, gifted to them the Christmas before, and finally pulled the knitted cap Adam had made him over his head.

“We’re gonna sweat this shit out of you,” Ronan murmured, “I’ll be right back.”

He’d returned with hot tea and a small, dark bottle.

“Bourbon. Trust me. It’s medicinal.”

Ronan shucked off his clothes and climbed into bed, situating himself against the headboard, so that Adam lay between his legs, his head resting against his chest. Adam wrapped his arms around Ronan’s thighs and tilted his head up, placing a kiss along Ronan’s jaw.

“I don’t want to get you sick...”

Ronan poured a shot of bourbon into the tea and brought the mug gently to Adam’s lips, “If I get sick, I get sick. You’ve been sick for days, not that you told me, and as I recall we were in _very close contact_ last night.” Ronan grinned and ran his hand along Adam’s inner thigh. 

Adam choked on the tea as he laughed, “I fucking love you so much.”

Ronan kissed his forehead, “Me too, baby.”

**

After the boozy tea, Ronan had forced Vitamin C and cold medicine on Adam, and made him drink a tall glass of water. And then he’d curled up next to him, and read to him from the novel Adam had been reading every night. Adam passed out to the deep, soothing tones of Ronan’s voice. His dreams were of strong arms and soft lips.

At one point he woke in the middle of the night to find that Ronan had positioned a humidifier ( _Did they own a humidifier?_ ) next to the bed, and his head felt immensely better. Ronan was next to him, reading quietly. He looked over as Adam shifted and ran his hand over Adam’s forehead.

“Do you need anything, baby?”

Adam had hummed and shook his head, settling himself back down contentedly against Ronan’s body.

**

Adam woke the next day to find himself alone in the bed, the midday sun shining in. Panic gripped him as he grasped for his phone. Where was it?? He was so fucking late! He swung his legs out of bed and stood… and immediately fell back against the mattress, his head spinning.

Ronan appeared in the doorway, having heard Adam’s collapse, “Hey, relax, OK? I called Marshall – everything is taken care of. You are officially not working today.”

“Ronan, I can’t take a day off right now! We’re in the middle of a huge case, and I have meetings today and…”

Ronan cut him off, “I know all of this. Do you think I don’t fucking listen when you talk about work? Your little genius protégée Emily is handling the meetings today. You said yourself that you wanted her to have more opportunities to take the lead, and guess what, jerkybits – today’s the fucking day because you’re on your goddamned deathbed!”

Ronan crawled into bed beside Adam and pulled the blankets tighter around him, “She can handle it. You’ve been telling me for months that she just needs a little push, well… this is her push, babe.”

Adam threw his head back against the pillow, “It’s just such a big case… and I can’t…”

“Shhhhhh….” Ronan rested his forehead against Adam’s, “Adam, you can’t _stand up_. What’s your plan, here? Tell me how you propose to get to work and I’ll help you… but baby, from where I stand you don’t really have a choice in the matter…”

Adam closed his eyes. Ronan was right. He was _always_ fucking right, and it was _goddamned annoying_.

“Can you at least bring me my phone so I can talk to her before the meeting?”

Ronan kissed his forehead, “Yes. But I’m limiting the call to 10 minutes, and then I’m turning on the TV and you’re having soup.”

Adam sighed, “Deal.”

**

“Wait, so the redhead is Elena’s half sister Genevieve, who everyone thought died in a plane crash, but actually she was kidnapped and held hostage by that guy with the eye-patch?”

“Yep, that pirate-y son of a bitch grabbed her from the wreckage, and now she’s got Stockholm syndrome and thinks she loves him, and she also has amnesia from the crash so has forgotten that she _actually_ loves Trevor, that tall dorky looking guy.”

Adam swallowed another spoonful of soup and looked up at Ronan. He was running his fingers through Adam’s hair as they lay in bed watching some daytime soap that Ronan _claimed_ he only saw occasionally when Noah put it on in the bar while they were setting up.

“You seem to know an awful lot about a show you only ‘ _sometimes_ _see in_ _passing’_ in the background….” Adam smirked, “And lest you forget, I’ve been lying back against you, so I know exactly how you’ve reacted every time Trevor has come on screen, and I don’t buy that you think he’s ‘dorky looking’ in the least.”

Ronan hummed against Adam’s ear, letting his hand wander under Adam’s tee-shirt, “Well, he reminds me of someone… light brown hair, freckles, kind or cerebral, but also a dumbass in his own way…”

“Hey, I take offense at that!” Adam laughed, turning over and straddling Ronan’s hips, “I’m not kind of cerebral, I’m full on cerebral.”

Ronan grinned up at him, “You’re not arguing with the dumbass bit?”

Adam kissed Ronan for as long as he could before he needed to take a break to breathe (god, being sick sucked), “Nope, I accept that.”

Ronan rubbed Adam’s back, “How are you feeling? Are the cold meds kicking in?”

“I think so. I feel a little better. Dizzy still, but I’m not coughing up a fucking lung.”

Ronan felt Adam’s forehead, “I think the fever’s broken.”

Adam rested his forehead against Ronan’s shoulder, sinking into his position in Ronan’s lap, “Thank you for taking care of me. I know I don’t make it easy.”

Ronan kissed Adam’s ear, “Anytime, baby.”

**

Ronan allowed Adam to call Emily after the big meeting ( _“You’re drunk with power, Lynch.”_ ) and was relieved to find that she had handled everything brilliantly, as he should have expected. And she’d assured him that he could rest and recuperate over the weekend – there was nothing more that could be done until the first hearing.

He’d taken a long nap and awoken feeling… not better per se, but not like he was ready to die.

What he desperately wanted was to take a shower. He felt coated in dried sweat. He didn’t feel confident in his ability to remain vertical under his own power for very long though.

“Ronan…?” Adam called weakly from the bedroom.

Ronan appeared immediately at the door, “Yeah, baby, what do you need?”

“Um, I kind of want to take a shower, but I don’t think…” Adam trailed off.

Ronan grinned, “Are you asking me to shower with you?”

Adam smiled back, “Don’t look so fucking happy about my incapacitation.”

Ronan climbed into the bed and knelt above Adam, “Relax, Parrish. My guess is I’m going to get you naked and then you’re going to pass the fuck out the second your sinuses drain from the hot water. Not exactly sexy time, but I’m happy to do it.”

“Jesus, when you put it that way… bath?” Adam asked, raising his eyebrows.

“See, _now_ you’re being full on cerebral.”

**

Ronan ran the bath, and added one of the bath bombs that Noah had left behind. It smelled of lemon verbena and rosemary. Adam groaned in relief as Ronan helped him sink into the water.

Ronan had turned off the harsh bathroom light, and lit several candles. He sat next to the tub and washed Adam’s hair, careful not to get any shampoo in his eyes. He ran soapy hands over Adam’s shoulders and down his chest, massaging his tired muscles. As he washed Adam he told him stories about The Barns. Adam loved hearing Ronan’s childhood stories – tales of brothers roaming through fields and forests, of lost cows discovered in the middle of town, of family picnics on the living room floor during thunderstorms, and blanket forts on snowy days. It was no life Adam had ever known, or even seen, but he lived it through Ronan.

Adam couldn’t remember ever feeling so completely cared for. So completely safe and loved.

He looked up at Ronan who was absentmindedly rubbing Adam’s earlobe and gazing back at him.

“What if I hadn’t come into the bar that night?” Adam asked quietly.

Ronan tilted his head and thought about the question, taking it seriously.

“We would have met another way.”

“But what if we hadn’t?” Adam asked, stilling Ronan’s hand where it tugged on his earlobe.

Ronan looked thoughtful and shook his head, “Nope. We would have met. There isn’t a reality where I don’t fall in love with you.”

Adam searched Ronan’s eyes and saw the truth of that statement, and he felt his heart clench in his chest. He used what little strength was left in his body to pull himself up out of the water and capture Ronan’s mouth in a kiss. When he sat back, he ran a soapy hand down Ronan’s neck, “I’ll never understand how this happened. I don’t deserve you.” Adam felt tears behind his eyes, and he closed them. 

Ronan kissed his eyelids gently, “And I don’t deserve you. Guess we both tricked whoever’s in charge of this shit, huh?”

Adam laughed, letting some of the tears spill out of his eyes and grinned, “Yeah, we pulled a fast one.”

**

By Sunday morning Adam was feeling mostly back to normal. Ronan’s near militaristic enforcement of naps, tea, mysterious vitamins and supplements (Adam just didn’t ask), homemade chicken soup, and trash television seemed to do the trick. The fact that Ronan also refused to have sex with him until he was fully healed may have also contributed to a speedy recovery.

Adam managed to get himself out of bed and take a shower _on his own_ while Ronan slept. He made coffee and took it to the front steps, where he sat and enjoyed the morning sun and waved to neighbors as they came out to get their papers.

He felt alive again. He thought about how things would have gone without Ronan there to care for him. He knew it was just the flu, and he would have been fine in the end – it just would have been immeasurably more awful to get through it. Whenever he thought he had a handle on how much he loved Ronan, something like this would happen, and he realized he hadn’t even scratched the surface. It was like a room that kept expanding and expanding until he couldn’t even see the walls anymore.

Adam heard the door open behind him.

“Hey,” Ronan croaked.

Adam turned and saw his beautiful boyfriend wrapped in their quilt looking forlorn and shivering.

“Baby,” Adam rose and wrapped his arms around him, shuffling him back inside the apartment, “Come on, there’s still soup in the fridge, and last we left him Trevor was about to rescue Genevieve…”


End file.
